As they say in Cockney, “Shock-a me lyff!” Thursday night, the score tied, 3:41 left in the third quarter of Nets-Heat Game 2, a startling thing occurred:

After LeBron James stripped the ball from Paul Pierce, James threw ahead to Ray Allen. A fast-break was on! Three-on-two! Players wearing “high performance” sneakers — some in their own signature models — were running!

But as the Heat approached the foul line, Rashard Lewis, the fast-breaker on the left, headed into the deep left corner. He then took the pass and threw up a long … air-ball.

As playoff games now go, this one quickly became too familiar. Viewers expecting either team to be eager to run in pursuit of an easy layup could have qualified for Medicare while waiting.

Thursday’s game was empty, a chronic case of redundant, tedious, uncreative, uninspired, simplistic long-range basketball. It was similar to watching a Knicks game in February or a three-balls-for-a-buck, throw-it-in-the-basket boardwalk game.

Forty-eight 3-point shots were taken, a bipartisan strategy that favors “hot shooters” as opposed to any better ideas, such as — forgive the radical notion — attacking the basket during a three-on-two or looking inside as an alternative to shooting a 3.

The crowd didn’t seem much into it, likely because there wasn’t much to get in to. Rebound, walk it up, kill some clock, take a long shot. And these fans paid extra for that privilege.

To that tortured end, lasting admiration belongs to the ESPN2 duo sentenced to call that game, Mike Tirico and Hubie Brown.

Tirico was forced to spend two-plus hours telling us what we could see: the score and whether the outside shots were good. He was stuck; that’s all he had. No use shouting. We were all stuck watching an NBA playoff game that appeared to have been manufactured in a knock-off plant then stamped with an expensive designer label.

Brown had it worse. He had to analyze a game that had nothing to analyze. Screens and picks were made to get “good looks” — from 25 feet.

Don’t expect visitors’ highlights on Stadium big screen

Damian DiGiulian, hockey coach at St. Michaels College (Vt.) who has done some college hockey color for ESPN, last Saturday took his 8-year-old to his first game at Yankee Stadium, Rays-Yankees. Time to enjoy and appreciate baseball at its highest level:

“So I let him buy the $7 ice cream — who cares, I knew it going in.

“I was impressed by the size and clarity of the video screen in center field. Only one problem, and my kid figured it out halfway through the game:

“After a beautiful Wil Myers play in which he dived over a sprawling James Loney to make the catch, we immediately looked up at that screen to, of course, see the replay. No such luck. Nothing. Not a glimpse.

“Soon, another great play, this one by Rays’ second baseman Sean Rodriguez, going deep in the hole, then sliding. We again looked up to see the replay. Nothing.

“Then my 8-year-old said, ‘Hey, no fair, we only get to see the Yankee replays when they do something good.’

“What can I tell him? It’s shameless. It’s a baseball game. It’s OK to admit when the other team makes a good play, isn’t it? My guess is that the guys in the Yankees dugout wanted to see both plays again, themselves.”

What DiGiulian identified is the long, sad tradition of treating Yankees fans — in the Stadium, watching on TV, listening on radio — as serfs who prefer managed news and info as dictated by the Yankees’ brain police. After all, the proletariat neither deserves nor can handle truth.

Yankees fans are treated as fall-in-line fools who have no use or need for any greater understanding or appreciation of baseball beyond supporting the Yankees, thus serving the State, the Fatherland, the Party, the Movement. It’s a holdover — a sustaining legacy and mentality — from the George Steinbrenner days.

It was, after all, no accident, that he selected and preserved boot-licker John Sterling as the Voice of the New York Yankees. He fought MSG on Jim Kaat — too honest. But he thought Sterling perfect. For him. Who else counted?

Odell Beckham Jr. takes the stage Thursday night after the Giants made the WR their first round pick.Photo: Getty Images

Odell a ‘nice’ pick

In late January I moderated — I have my moderate moments — a Q&A business folks’ luncheon with receiver Odell Beckham Jr., the Giants’ first-round draft pick, who was here for the Super Bowl. My impressions, and in order:

1. He better carry ID with him to every game and practice. He’s a baby face; easily could pass for 16.

2. He must be very good because he sure ain’t big. He could get lost in a huddle. The Giants could play 12 and not be caught.

3. He seems like a sweet, shy and well-grounded young man. If NFL stardom is to be his, he’s not — or not yet — the kind of mouthy, boastful, me-dancing WR who TV and its advertisers for years have favored, adored, rewarded, hired, ditched for the next one.

4. Given that many watching Thursday’s draft might have wondered about a fella in Mohawk dyed blonde — well, at 21, he’s still a kid. Perhaps his more telling look was when, after his name was called and he received hugs from friends and family, his next move as a pro was to wipe aside a tear.

In other words, I’m glad Beckham was chosen by a local team. He should be easy to root for.

♦ So there sat Ray Lewis, an on-site member of ESPN’s NFL Draft team. How could he address, say, character issues? Having paid off the families of two murder victims after pleading to obstruction of justice in the investigation of the same, still-unsolved double-homicide, er, ah, what are his thoughts on Donald Sterling?

♦ Didn’t take long for Cablevision to try to recoup lost revenue — and then some — on the Knicks’ no-go postseason. Subscribers’ sports package fees have been raised two bucks a month.

♦ While many experts guessed Johnny Manziel would be a top-five pick, Mike Francesa knew it. Manziel went 22nd. Thursday, Francesa explained why Bubba Watson wasn’t playing in the The Players’ Championship. As he did, Watson was playing in it.